


heat exhaustion/heat stroke

by respoftw



Series: 2019 Hurt/Comfort Bingo [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Getting Together, Heat Stroke, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 03:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19433272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: Rodney's skin was dry when they found him.  In the heat of the space, that should have been a relief but the stink of long evaporated sweat that lingered on the pile of clothes that Rodney had obviously managed to strip out of some time ago told a truer story.





	heat exhaustion/heat stroke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/gifts).



Rodney's skin was dry when they found him. In the heat of the space, that should have been a relief but the stink of long evaporated sweat that lingered on the pile of clothes that Rodney had obviously managed to strip out of some time ago told a truer story.

It had taken them too long to find him.

It had taken _John_ too long to find him.

The space Rodney had been locked in was small, cramped, and in the dry heat of PU6-LL2, not unlike an oven. John shouted behind him for some damn water, _now_ , and reached into the small space to pull Rodney out.

Rodney’s skin - John wasn’t used to seeing so much of it, only Rodney's boxers and one odd sock left to cover his modesty - was unmarked by cuts or bruises and that too should have been a relief. John had spent every second since Rodney’s bitten-off cry for help over the radio imagining the very worst things that skin could be subjected too but seeing it unblemished now wasn’t any kind of comfort. Rodney’s skin was flushed red and baking with heat. That, the lack of sweat and John’s memories of Afghanistan was enough to make his blood run cold.

“Rodney, buddy, open your eyes for me, ok?”

John gently tapped on Rodney’s cheek, trying not to panic when all that happened was a slow fluttering of Rodney’s eyelashes. Rodney’s chest rose and fell rapidly in time with the shallow gasps of breath that John knew he would be hearing for long after today. John checked Rodney’s pulse and found it racing much too fast.

He tapped Rodney’s cheek harder, just shy of outright slapping him and cursed when it didn’t elicit a reaction.

“What is wrong with him?” Teyla asked, hurriedly handing John the water he had demanded.

“Heatstroke,” John answered tersely, taking the water even though he wasn’t sure what the hell good it would do him. Giving an unconscious man water was a bad idea, no matter how badly Rodney needed it. 

Teyla recognised the problem immediately and reached into her pack, handing John a square of fabric. “Wet this,” she said. 

John nodded, understanding her intention and soaked the fabric in water before bringing it up to Rodney’s mouth. Gently, he placed the sodden fabric against Rodney’s parted lips, careful not to choke him. 

“Come on, buddy,” he coaxed. 

After a few seconds, Rodney seemed to register the water against his lips and John felt something relax in his chest as he watched Rodney start to suck on the wet piece of fabric. It wasn’t getting much water into his system but it was better than none.

“Good job,” he praised. Rodney’s eyelashes fluttered again, enough that John caught a peek of blue this time.

“Hey,” John tapped at his cheek again, trying to keep him awake, “you with me? How you feeling?”

Rodney’s mouth worked against the wet fabric a few times, his throat bobbing with each pull of water. His eyes opened all of the way for the first time and John was relieved to see that they were able to focus on him after a few blinks.

“H-hot,” Rodney croaked. 

John grinned. “Can’t argue with that,” he said, sharing a relieved smile with Teyla. “How about we get you out of here, huh?”

Rodney nodded and let himself be pulled up. He staggered as they raised him to a standing position but John took his weight, trying not to flinch at the heat of all that skin against him.

For one long, perfect second, John really thought everything was going to be ok. More fool him.

One second Rodney was almost standing, his weight supported by John and Teyla and the next he was on the ground, convulsing as John frantically used his hands to keep Rodney’s head from hitting the hard ground.

Ronon, who had been busy securing the rest of Rodney’s captors, was suddenly there, his large, strong hands, helping John keep Rodney from injuring himself.

“Heat sickness?” Ronon's mouth was set in a thin, hard line.

“Yeah,” John croaked. “It’s...we need to get him to Carson.”

Ronon nodded resolutely and picked Rodney up, making it look easy. Between one breath and the next Ronon was gone, running towards the gate and help and John was left kneeling on the ground, cold with the knowledge that they might have been too late after all.

“Come with me, John,” Teyla helped pull him up. “We must get back to Atlantis. Major Lorne can come back and deal with the people here.”

John knew that he should stay, that it was his job to deal with these people, to find out what they wanted, to do what needed to be done but it was all he could do to keep from sinking back down to his knees so he let Teyla lead him back to the gate. He let Teyla deal with Weir and issue orders to Lorne and then he let Teyla guide him to the infirmary waiting area where Ronon was pacing back and forth.

Seeing the infirmary jolted him back from wherever the hell he had disappeared to.

“I got him here as quick as I could,” Ronon said. 

“I know you did, buddy,” John said, his mouth dry. “The doc been out yet?”

As if John’s words had summoned him, Carson walked into the waiting area. Carson smiled tiredly at them. “He’s going to be fine. We’re working on getting his temperature down and he’s responding well to the treatment. The scanners haven’t picked up any  rhabdomyolysis or damage to his central nervous system. He was lucky. You found him in time.”

They had found him in time.

John had found him in time.

This time.

John turned around and walked out of the infirmary.

* * *

Rodney’s eyelashes fluttered slowly as he rose to consciousness. 

John stayed seated in the chair he had been sat in for the past several hours and waited. When he’d left earlier, he had walked all the way out to the East Pier where he had leaned over and thrown up before turning around and walking all the way back to the infirmary.

Then he’d sat in this chair and began to wait.

“Uuuuhh,” Rodney groaned. “What happened?”

“Well, we were on PU6-LL2 and - - “

“I _know_ what happened,” Rodney interrupted.

“Well then why did you ask?”

“Because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you wake up,” Rodney muttered. “Especially when you were pretty damn sure that you wouldn’t ever be waking up again.” 

“Don’t - - you’re _fine_.” John leaned forward and offered Rodney the container of ice chips he’d been periodically refilling over the past few hours. “How are you feeling?”

Rodney sighed happily as he crunched on the offered ice. “Well, I’m not hot anymore.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” John said quietly. 

“- - although my muscles are screaming at me and - - wait, what did you say?”

John didn’t repeat himself, just sat there and watched as Rodney rewound the conversation in his head. He could see the moment that Rodney realised exactly what John had said, what John had meant and - - well, they didn’t call him a genius for nothing.

“Remind me to send the idiots there a thank you note,” Rodney said, reaching out to grab at John’s hand. 

“They are _not_ getting a thank you note,” John said, letting himself be pulled onto Rodney’s bed. “They’re lucky I left them alive.”

“Yes, yes, of course. With the soldiering and the protecting and all that other insanely hot stuff. It’s very impressive but can we get on to the other thing now?”

“The other thing?”

“The kissing thing.”

John smiled, something settling warmly in his chest for the first time in years. “Yeah, Rodney. We can get on to the other thing.”

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like your very own gift fic - please choose a square from my hurt/comfort bingo card. 
> 
> [Bingo Card](https://respoftw.dreamwidth.org/55888.html)


End file.
